Chapter Seven

"Well, ye're not very much to look at, are ye?"

Lady Hay was peering at Prudence, her lips pressed in disapproval. "No manners either."

Oran was a single pace behind her after marching her up the main aisle of the great hall. He flattened his hand on her shoulder, pushing her down until Prudence reverenced.

The respectful gesture didn't gain her any kind looks from those watching.

Members of the Hay clan had started to gather around now. Maids, other household staff, and retainers were there as well, their harder frames making it nearly impossible for Prudence to calm her racing heart.

Were they planning to kill her?

Lady Hay shook her head and made a motion with her hand for Prudence to rise. Oran cupped her elbow and made sure she was quick to obey his lady's commands. Prudence popped back up and had to widen her stance to avoid stumbling forward.

There was a round of judgmental chuckles at her expense.

"I see no cause for amusement." Lady Hay snapped.

The people around Prudence quieted down, but there was more than one disgruntled look sent her way. Prudence might have been concerned about that, but the truth was, she was almost too exhausted to care. She hadn't slept in the past two days.

Lady Hay leaned forward in her chair. "I had to send good Hay men down to the borderlands to fetch you here."

"Why?" Prudence asked.

Lady Hay was a very pretty woman. But she'd heard that being shrewish destroyed even the most beautiful of faces, and when the lady sent her a scathing look, Prudence realized it was the truth.

"Who are ye to speak without permission?" Lady Hay demanded.

"I would like to know why she is here as well." A voice boomed from the other end of the hall. A man stood there, shrugging out of his surcoat. Clumps of snow dripped onto the floor as everyone instantly shifted and lowered themselves.

Even lady Hay rose from the large chair she'd been sitting so regally in.

"My laird husband," the lady muttered very sweetly. Prudence couldn't help staring at the meek way the lady had sunk into a curtsey, holding it as her husband came down the aisle with heavy footfalls.

He stopped in front of Prudence. Oran pushed on her shoulder again. This time, Prudence offered the reverence with more sincerity.

"Do nae be making the lass bob up and down, Oran." Laird Hay gave her a quick gesture to rise. "She has not a clue who I am, and she appears to be ready to drop from fatigue. Ye must have ridden straight through."

"We did." Oran reached up and tugged on the corner of his cap, earning a grunt from his laird.

Prudence straightened up, and Laird Hay looked her over from head to toe.

"Who are ye lass?" he asked.

"Prudence Hawlyn sir," she answered.

His eyebrows rose before he turned to glare at Lady Hay. The lady rose but remained silent. There was no hint of remorse in her attitude. Laird Hay stomped up the three steps to the high ground where the chairs were sitting. He turned and sat down with a swish of his kilt.

"My dear lady wife," the laird said. "What could have possessed ye to have an English girl brought into this stronghold?"

"I believe I am the cause."

Prudence remembered Dugan's voice.

It was as if she'd only parted from him, with only a few moments passed, instead of nearly two weeks, for her body responded instantly.

And intensely.

Her heart skipped.

And then beat twice as fast.

Prudence turned her head and lifted her chin to meet his eyes. Somehow, the darkness of that evening had masked just how fearsome Dugan was. Perhaps she'd been enchanted, as her father had warned her could happen at such pagan gatherings. Because now she discovered herself trembling and she stepped back from the imposing Highlander in front of her. This was not a man to trifle with.

And he was very displeased by the sight of her.

"Ye know this lass, Dugan?" Laird Hay asked.

Dugan looked toward the high ground. He reached up and tugged on his cap, making it clear that the man seated on that dais was in fact the laird of the clan and master of the house.

His word would be law…

And the burly retainers surrounding her would see it enforced.

"I should say he knows her," Lady Hay answered for Dugan. "She is his consort."

There was a gasp from the women watching. Conversation rippled through the assembled crowd.

Laird Hay turned his head to look at his wife. "The lass is covered from head to toe. I can nae even see a single strand of her hair. She does nae look the sort to be a lightskirt."

Prudence felt her cheeks heat. "I certainly am not."

"And yet," Lady Hay glared at her. "I hear Dugan danced around a bonfire with you, after accepting you as his consort."

After she finished speaking, Lady Hay sat down next to her husband. Her position was a proclamation of her power within the Hay household. Only those women of very high birth were allowed to be by their husbands' side during official business.

Prudence felt her heartrate accelerate again.

Her breathing was rapid too and Dugan must have heard it, for he shifted his eyes toward her for a moment.

Why did her composure desert her?

If she was to meet a horrible fate, could she at least do so with her dignity intact? A tickle of sweat ran down the side of her face, confirming that she was to be denied even that small request. Everyone likely saw her shaking. For the first time in her life, she truly wished she knew a word of profanity.

"Dugan…" Laird Hay sounded exasperated as he made a motion with his hand for Dugan to start explaining.

"I did go to a Samhain bonfire," Dugan stated clearly.

"He boldly became the Laird of Misrule," Lady Hay added. "And bolder still, he did so on the English side of the border."

There was another outbreak of amusement from those watching, but this laughter was more encouragement than disapproval.

Lady Hay slapped the armrest of her chair in agitation. "When one is the son of the laird, he must consider the consequences of every action," Lady Hay insisted.

"As to that bit," Laird Hay said, "ye are me son and must be aware of the weight of the clan honor on yer shoulders."

For the first time, Lady Hay seemed to lose some of her confidence. The laird had stressed the word ‘son' which appeared to displease his lady wife.

"Dugan must understand the ramifications of his misadventures," Lady Hay declared.

"I committed no transgression," Dugan protested, seeming to be losing his patience. "I do nae care to see this lass brought here."

"Isn't it just like a man to think naught of the reputation of a lass he dallies with. Yer own state of illegitimacy is the result of a lack of respect for what happens to a woman when she makes a poor choice regarding her virtue."

Dugan's lips pressed into a hard line, visibly wrestling with his temper. He turned back to look toward the dais, clearly waiting for the laird to decide the matter.

"Celebrating Samhain with a bit of dancing is no cause for such actions, wife," Laird Hay growled.

"This girl is from a Puritan family," Lady Hay informed her husband.

Prudence found herself the subject of scrutiny once more. But Laird Hay looked back at his wife. "Make yer point, Alice. The Hay do nae steal daughters. What ye have done can nae be undone. Dugan is not the only one who needs to be reminded of the weight of the clan honor on their shoulders."

There was a rumble of approval from the crowd.

"What I have done," Alice said, "is keep every Hay soul safe from the wages of sin." She pointed at Prudence. "Dugan left this girl to the unkindness of fate after trifling with her. A stain such as that can never be washed away. Not in the eyes of her Puritan family."

Lady Hay knew how to choose her words.

You mean twist them…

Prudence decided her inner voice was correct, for the lady hadn't really said anything untrue. Yet the way her words were strung together made them damning, even without substance.

Prudence felt as if she had her foot caught in a snare. The need to struggle was nearly overwhelming.

"A bit of Samhain dancing is hardly reason to send Hay retainers across the border," Laird Hay snarled.

"I sent Oran to fetch her because if her family learns of the matter, she will likely be put out," Alice insisted. "Puritans do not even have convents for daughters who stray from the path of obedience. Shall we wager our good fortune against the uncertainty of this sordid secret being learned? How can we expect blessings in the spring if one of the laird's own family is responsible for a girl being tossed out into the cruel jaws of winter? Her ghost will haunt our fields."

There was a stiffening among those watching. Expressions grew serious, proving that the lady knew her people well.

And just how to multiply their fears.

Dugan turned to look at her. His gaze was so piercing, it felt as though he was looking straight into her soul. Panic was gripping her and yet Prudence felt the need to stand up for herself. She was not a weakling.

"I did not ask anything of him," Prudence said, looking toward the lady and laird. "It was but a Samhain bonfire."

"A Hay retainer must understand his responsibilities while wearing the colors of this clan," Alice informed her decisively. "Even masked, his colors would be noted."

So everyone knew who she'd been dancing with. A stain on one's honor could never be cleaned away. Prudence heard her father's words ringing in her ears. Around her, she saw eyes narrow, condemning her for her lack of self-discipline. Prudence straightened her shoulders.

"The guilt of not seeking permission from my family is mine, lady," Prudence answered clearly. "As such, I must shoulder the responsibility."

"And yet, this is now a matter which involves a member of my family because Dugan was wearing Hay colors," Alice continued. "Life is difficult enough without having a black mark against us in the eyes of the saints and the Lord. If yer family had cast you out, Dugan's actions would have been judged by all who are holy."

There was another round of rumbling in the hall. Prudence felt the weight of judgement as the members of the Hay clan cast their gazes toward her. It wasn't really about who believed what the lady was saying.

No, the true matter was the fact that no one was willing to take the chance that fate would agree with Alice Hay. Luck, and the favor of the saints? That did matter. Several of the people around her were making the sign of the cross over themselves or touching their small saints' medals.

"What precisely are ye suggesting we do about this?" Laird Hay asked his wife, clearly displeased with her but wise enough to notice how many of his people were being swayed by her argument.

"It is simple enough." Alice smiled. "They should be married immediately."

The laird's face turned red. He glared at his wife and gripped the armrests of his chair. His fingers were curled into talons with his fury.

"Remove this girl from me sight."

*

Just as Prudence had expected, the laird's word was law.

At the same time that the laird's order rang through the hall, she felt hands on her, gripping and pulling on her arms. She stumbled because she was trying to turn around and whoever had hold of her arm didn't give her a chance to do so.

She just managed to keep herself from falling.

"Clumsy. I cannot imagine why Dugan decided to dance with ye."

"You might afford me the chance to turn around," Prudence declared.

The woman who had hold of Prudence scoffed at her. "You might recognize that it's best to get gone when the laird is so displeased with ye!"

"Leaving suits me very well," Prudence said.

The woman hadn't been expecting Prudence to agree with her. She contemplated Prudence through narrowed eyes before she released her.

"Don't fall behind. I've things to do other than deal with ye," the woman said.

She offered Prudence another huff before turning and starting to make her way through the kitchens. The scent of roasting meat and fresh bread made Prudence's mouth water. But the woman didn't stop.

Prudence's belly rumbled, confirming the oat cakes were long gone. There were several long worktables laden with fare. Servants were arranging plates, clearly making ready to serve a meal now that their laird had returned.

The woman headed away from the food and the hall where it would be served. With every step, the hearths were left further behind, which meant the air grew cooler.

Was the woman going to throw her out into the yard?

Prudence realized it was a possibility.

The laird's furious expression rose in her mind. Since he didn't want her there, she might as well walk home. It was almost too good to believe but her belly rumbled again, which made Prudence frown.

There was no food in the forest.

And there was a great deal of forest to cover on foot.

The woman passed by the last worktable and started to walk into a passageway outside the kitchens. Prudence hastily grabbed up several items on the table. If these people considered that pilfering, so be it.

She would need the substance to survive the journey home.

The woman headed into the recesses of the back of the stronghold. Here, the stone was dark and there were no candles burning to illuminate the narrow passageways. The bustle of the kitchens was left far behind them, the sound of people being replaced with the howl of the wind.

"Get on with ye."

The woman had stopped at a doorway. She gave a huff and jerked her chin toward a door. So caught up in her idea of being freed to return home, Prudence walked through the doorway before she realized it didn't lead outside.

Instead, she entered a back storeroom. Prudence smelled the herbs that were hanging upside-down all over the ceiling. Every shelf was crammed full of newly harvested provisions. These were the medicinal supplies for the stronghold.

A door slammed shut behind her, and Prudence whirled around in time to hear a bar being slid across the door to secure it.

"Oh please!"

There was a snort in response to her plea. "Keep quiet or I'll send someone down to gag ye!"

Prudence stepped back from the door, clenching her teeth tight against the idea of being gagged again. She heard the woman walking away, leaving her to her fate.

Her fate?

Something snapped inside her. Prudence wasn't sure just what it was, but she was suddenly very pleased that she'd grabbed up the food. If she didn't fend for herself, she'd go without. That much was for certain.

So from now on, she'd have to take care of herself.

That meant escape, of course.

Prudence pushed on the door again, but it held. There were only small archer slits in the walls. The meager light they allowed in was diminishing. She turned around to investigate the storage room. Since she was stuck, she should eat and rest.

That way, she'd be ready when the door opened.

And she would be ready.